


Something Just Like This

by moodyvalentinestories (moodyvalentine)



Series: ♡ Rachel Fields x Thomas Hunt ♡ [10]
Category: Hollywood U: Rising Star
Genre: F/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-11-22 21:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20880623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodyvalentine/pseuds/moodyvalentinestories
Summary: A simple photo, taken out of context. That's all it took for everything to go to shit.





	1. Maybe You Should Have

**Author's Note:**

> You didn’t really think it was all going to be fun and games now, did you?

She read the headline another time, trying hard not to look at the picture below it, before burying her head in her hands. _Shit, shit, shit._ _What must Thomas be thinking? _For a moment she wondered if he’d be furious – as he should – but she realised he wouldn’t be. Her stomach dropped. No, he’d either be hurt or – even worse – understanding. _I have to go talk to him._

With an exasperated sigh, she slammed her laptop shut, grabbed a coat and made her way to the auditorium. She knew he wouldn’t be happy with her for talking to him as his girlfriend instead of just a student on campus, but she had far bigger problems at the moment. Like the fact that TMZ had managed to get their hands on a photo of her _kissing_ Chris Winters.

It hadn’t been a real kiss, of course, only one for the film they were working on, but it certainly _looked_ real. Given their history, it wasn’t much of a surprise that people jumped to conclusions. And while she’d made sure Thomas knew that she’d never truly had any feelings for Chris, and while she knew Thomas was aware of how absolutely not romantic film kisses were, she couldn’t help but worry. Because she’d _lied_ to him. Or rather, chose not to tell him that she would not only be filming with an ex but also play said ex’s love interest in that film.

She wasn’t even sure why she’d kept it from him. It may have had something to do with how many times she’d used Chris to make him jealous before they’d got together. She would have hated for him to think that that was what she was trying to do by telling him. But not telling him, clearly, was far worse. Maybe he would be angry with her. _I hope he will be_.

As she stood by the doors to the auditorium, leaning against the wall, she took out her phone to check the time – less than five minutes until the end of Hunt’s lecture – and saw both Addison and Ethan had already texted her about the entire situation. They probably wanted to know whether it was true or not. She decided to not even open their texts and simply ignored them, knowing they would both be elated if it weren’t merely a rumour, though for different reasons. She didn’t need Ethan telling her that it would be good publicity for their movie if they were to get back together, and she _certainly_ didn’t need Addison asking her if Chris had been her ‘summer fling’ all along. She would have to tell her no, and then she’d _know_.

The doors next to her flung open three minutes before the official end of the lecture and Rachel immediately knew this was going to be even more unpleasant than she’d thought. He _never_ dismissed class early.

Once everyone had left, she hesitantly stepped inside. Thomas, of course, noticed her immediately.

“Miss Fields, what are you doing here?” he asked, his tone flat.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, before she continued walking towards him. This wasn’t a conversation to be had at this volume, from this distance. Her pace was fast but it still took her a while until she stood in front of him.

Though it wasn’t nearly enough time for him to calm down and hide his distress from her. She would be able to tell how much this had affected him and he cursed himself for not realising that she would come to see him right away. He should have been prepared.

“I think we need to talk,” she said, reaching for his hand.

He took a step back. No, this couldn’t happen right now. Not here. “It can wait.”

“No, it can’t!” she exclaimed, realising she’d spoken too loud as her words echoed through the large room. Quietly, she repeated, “It can’t.”

She wasn’t wrong. He knew she wasn’t. But it was far too dangerous for them to get into an argument like this on campus. And, knowing her, this would turn into an argument. He couldn’t give in. “Later. I have a meeting to get to.”

Of course, that was a lie. And not a good one. It didn’t surprise him in the least when she called him out for it. “Bullshit.”

“Watch your language, Miss Fields,” he warned, desperately trying to remain in what she liked to call his _Professor-Mode_. It wasn’t working too well.

“Thomas,” she said softly and took a step towards him again, though she resisted the urge to reach out. “I know I should have told you.”

Should have told him? What? No, it couldn’t be… could it? He’d thought it had just been a rumour started by the tabloids. A photo taken out of context. Had he been wrong not to assume the worst? Despite the decision he’d made earlier, he felt a sharp ache in his chest at the thought of her with another man. “Should have told me what?” he asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

“That he’s the romantic lead in the film I’m working on,” she said quickly once she realised what he must have been thinking. “I would never… Thomas, you _know_ I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

_Thank God_, he thought. But it didn’t change anything about the real issue. The issue that, he realised, she was entirely oblivious to. “Maybe you should have.”

“What?” Clearly, she’d heard wrong. Because there was no way, _no way_, he’d just said that.

He clenched his jaw. “Maybe you _should_ have cheated on me. Then at least I wouldn’t have to feel so bad about doing this.”

“Doing what?” she asked cautiously. Wherever this conversation was going, it wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d figured he’d be hurt that she’d felt the need to lie to him. That maybe he’d sulk for a while about how Chris was young and famous and in his prime and probably a far better match for her than he was, but he’d eventually realise that she didn’t care for Chris like she did for him. But this? This didn’t sound like any of those things.

Thomas looked away. He didn’t _want_ to do it, but he knew it was what was right for her. “You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve to be someone’s dirty little secret. What you deserve is someone who can take you on a date, a real date, without worrying about people seeing. Someone who can be by your side whenever you need them to. Someone who won’t hold you back.”

“I don’t want—"

He ignored her, his mind made up. “I wish I could give you all of that. I do. But I can’t, Rachel, so do yourself – and if that isn’t enough, do me – a favour and find someone who can.”

“Why would you say that?” she asked, trying her best to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. _“Why would you say that?”_

Still refusing to look at her – the desperation in her voice was already too much, he didn’t need to see her cry or his resolve would crumble right away – he said, “Because it’s the truth.” He knew his next words would hurt her, more than he already had, but he needed to get her to leave. “In a few years, you’ll regret this. You’ll regret _me_. You’ll just be the girl who slept with her professor in college.”

She felt like she’d just been punched in the chest, but she couldn’t be deterred by that. She knew full well that that was what he wanted. She wouldn’t let him play her like that. Not anymore. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

“Rachel, please,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. “Please just go.”

No. No, she was not just going to leave. She couldn’t. This was everything to her. _He_ was everything to her. It wasn’t how she’d wanted it to go down, but if there had ever been a time for her to say it, this was it. She stepped closer, took his face in her hands and made him look at her. “Thomas,” she said, still fighting back the tears, “I—”

“No!” he interrupted when he saw it in her eyes and took a step back. He couldn’t let her say the words. He wouldn’t be able to let her go if she did. He knew he wouldn’t. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” she asked, moving towards him again. “Because this isn’t right for me? Well, guess what, I don’t _care_. You don’t get to make that decision.”

He’d tried everything he could. _Almost_ everything, he realised. There was one more thing that was sure to push her away. He took a deep breath and prepared for the performance of a lifetime. Now, he would find out if he truly was as good of an actor as he’d always thought. “Because I don’t feel the same way, Rachel.”

She froze. _No._ Her chest tightened and she was unable to breathe. _No! _It had to be a lie. It had to be! But as she scanned his face, that stone-cold frown of his, she couldn’t find any sign of dishonesty. He didn’t feel the same way. _He didn’t feel the same way. _Without another word, she turned around and ran.

Once she was out of sight, Thomas stumbled back, his hand grasping a nearby table to steady himself. He’d just sent her away. _Her._ He pressed a hand to his aching chest in a desperate attempt to ease the pain, but it didn’t go away. It wouldn’t _ever_ go away. But if that was the price he had to pay for her to have a chance at happiness, he would gladly pay it a thousandfold.


	2. Fairy Godmothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone needs to knock some sense into these two because they’re fucking idiots.

She should have realised that not answering Addison would lead her to turn up at her dorm room. If she’d just sent her a quick text… but she hadn’t, because her mind had been preoccupied with worrying about Thomas, and there was no way she could change that right now. So as she reached her floor and saw her best friend standing by the door, she had no choice but to face her. Or run away but, realistically, she’d much rather have Addi see her cry than everyone in the common room or a café or wherever else she could have gone. And she knew her tears wouldn’t stop flowing for a long time – _if _they ever stopped, which was doubtful at this point.

“Rachel!” Addison said, her tone almost accusatory, as she walked towards her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She stopped in her tracks, her brows furrowing in worry and confusion, when she saw her best friend in tears. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Rachel sobbed. Of course, she wouldn’t believe that, but Rachel hoped she’d let it go.

She didn’t. “That’s bullshit. You don’t get _this_ upset over nothing.”

“Please, Addi. I can’t…” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, but it was no use. “I can’t talk about it.”

Addison knew she shouldn’t try to make her talk about it but if whatever it was had driven Rachel – Rachel, of all people! – to walk around crying, it must have been bad. Unsure what to say, she pulled her into a tight hug.

It was warm and comforting and Rachel felt herself relax, though her tears still hadn’t subsided. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“I don’t want to push you. I don’t. But… I’ve never seen you like this and I just want to know how to help,” she said as she stroked Rachel’s hair. But it wasn’t quite true. She _had_ seen her like this – or almost like this – before, once. A little over a year ago. Then she realised. There was only one person she knew of that could make Rachel react this way. And everything clicked into place. She put her hands on her best friend’s shoulders and took a step back to take a good look at her so she could assess her reaction when she said, “It was Hunt, wasn’t it?”

Rachel’s eyes widened. _Shit!_ “What?”

“The guy you’ve been seeing,” Addison said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. It made sense now why she hadn’t wanted to tell her who it was. “You’ve been fucking Hunt!”

Of course Rachel had known she wouldn’t be able to keep this from her forever. But she wouldn’t have thought… well, it didn’t matter much now, anyway. It was over. So what difference did it make if she told her best friend about a stupid, _stupid_, mistake she’d made?

“Can we talk about this inside?” she asked. “I don’t want people to hear.”

Addi narrowed her eyes but eventually agreed. “Fine. But you’re not backing out of this one, Rachel.”

She wasn’t planning to. She did need someone to talk to, especially now, and maybe Addison was exactly the right person for the job. Because Addison was sure to agree with Hunt on this one. And while that was the last thing she wanted to hear, she needed to hear it.

So she led her friend inside, sat down on the bed with her and told her everything. All the gory details – or at least most of them – of her and Hunt’s whirlwind romance, from what happened at the dinner party to the events that transpired just minutes ago.

And with every word Rachel said, with every piece of information she got, Addison’s opinion changed, bit by bit, until she had come to the only conclusion she possibly could. “You’re in love with him.”

She didn’t even deny it. Why would she? It must have been plastered all over her face. “Yes,” she whispered. “I am.”

“Then you can’t let him slip away like that.” She hadn’t wanted to encourage her. She’d wanted to tell her to forget about him and move on. But Addison was also a sucker for romance, and she wouldn’t forgive herself if she didn’t at least try to get these two their fairytale ending. Because, even if she’d ignored it at the time, she’d seen the way Hunt had looked at Rachel. She would bet her entire wardrobe that that man was in love with her, too.

* * *

Thomas cursed himself for agreeing to join a few old colleagues in celebrating the release of their newest film. The one time he decided to accept an invitation to a social event, and it just had to fall on a day such as this one. He sighed as he straightened his tie, scrutinising his reflection. He looked completely and utterly miserable. For a moment, he considered cancelling, but immediately discarded the idea. Not only would Ryan have his head, but it would be pathetic. And Thomas Hunt was _not_ pathetic. He couldn’t be. He couldn’t let a woman change who he was, not even her. Certainly not her.

No, he would try to make the best of the night, he decided before taking a dark grey suit jacket off a hanger – deliberately ignoring the army green one right next to it – and heading out. He considered taking his car but he knew he would not get through this without at least a couple of drinks, so he walked past the bowl sitting on the table in his entryway – the bowl that not only held his car keys but also an old hair tie of hers – and let the door click shut behind him. _More than a couple of drinks, _he realised.

* * *

“You’re joking, right?” Rachel asked, not entirely sure what to make of her friend’s expression. She couldn’t have possibly been serious. “I mean, aren’t you supposed to tell me to forget about him? That Chris and I would make _such_ a wonderful couple and it’s terribly sad that the rumours aren’t true?”

Addison shook her head, looking at Rachel intently. “Do you love Chris?”

“No, I just told you—”

“Then why would I want you to be with him?” She put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Rachel, I want you to be _happy_. And I’m not – or I _wasn’t_ – sure that Thomas Hunt could do that for you. But after seeing you these past few months… I was wrong.”

She huffed. “Well, I’m glad you finally realised that. It’s just a little too late. It’s over, Addi. He made that pretty damn clear.”

“You’re not going to fight for him? That’s not very like you.”

“I _have_ been fighting for him. And it was all for nothing. He doesn’t feel the same way.”

God, for someone who managed to wrap a man with standards as high as Thomas Hunt’s around her finger, Rachel sure was quite dense. “So you told me. But have you considered that he could have said that just to get you to leave? Don’t forget that he used to be an actor, too.”

She _had_ considered that, but she didn’t believe it. Because, deep down, she’d always doubted his feelings were as real as her own. How could he – Thomas fucking Hunt! – fall in love with someone like her? He couldn’t. And that, she knew to be true. Maybe it wasn’t even her fault. Maybe it was just that he was incapable of loving. It was what the general public thought, after all. Maybe, for once, they weren’t so wrong.

“No. He meant it,” she said and got up from the bed. “I think I’m gonna have to take a shower so I’d appreciate it if you could leave.”

Addison knew there was no point trying to argue. Not right now, anyway. So she did as Rachel told her, but not before vowing to herself that she would fix this. Somehow, she would fix this. Even if it meant – and she shuddered at the mere thought of it – confronting Hunt herself.

* * *

Ryan had become well-acquainted with Thomas’ signature frown over the many years he’d known him, and so he immediately recognised that the expression he was wearing tonight was distinctly different. He’d watched him all night, trying to figure out if he was reading too much into it, but when Thomas’ mood hadn’t bettered after he’d downed his fifth Scotch, Ryan had about enough.

He walked up to the bar, where Thomas had found himself a corner to retreat to and – as it seemed – drown his sorrows, and sat down on the stool next to him. “You better spill, Hunt.”

“What are you talking about now?” Thomas asked, refusing to look at him.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you seem absolutely miserable tonight.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied and motioned for the bartender to fill his glass again. “Just work.”

“Just work my ass.” Ryan _knew_ Thomas. And while he was quite serious about his work, it would never cause him to be in such a sour mood. “Is it family issues? It’s got to be family issues. Either that or it’s a woman.”

He’d meant it as more of a joke, but he didn’t miss Hunt’s flinch at the suggestion of the latter. Oh.

“Now you _have_ to tell me.” What woman could possibly rattle the illustrious Thomas Hunt like this? “Who is she?”

Thomas shook his head. Even if he could have, even if the situation had been different and Rachel had not been his student, he wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it. He wasn’t going to talk about it. “It’s none of your business.”

“Fine, so her identity’s a secret,” Ryan said. He was dying to know, of course, but he recognised that Hunt may have been worried about rumours spreading. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s _none of your business_,” Thomas repeated – it was almost a hiss – as he moved to pick up his freshly refilled glass.

Ryan stopped him, pulling the glass away just before he touched it. “You’ve had enough.”

“Believe me, it’ll never be enough,” he said under his breath. He hadn’t meant for Ryan to hear it.

But he had. “You know you can talk to me, Hunt. Whatever it is, I won’t judge.”

“I _can’t_,” Thomas said insistently. Why couldn’t he just leave him alone? “Now would you _please_ give me back my drink?”

Reluctantly, Ryan slid the drink back over to him. “I’m not going to stop asking, you know?”

Thomas groaned and downed his Scotch in one gulp. “Very well. I met a woman. We had a good time. I wasn’t the right man for her. The end.” It felt wrong to put it this way. Things had been far more complicated than that. But what was he to say?

“Yeah, no,” Ryan said, scrutinizing his friend’s face. “There’s more.”

“I assure you, that is all.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes. He’d seen this before. The expression on Hunt’s face. A memory, buried in the very back of his mind. A wave of realisation washed over him when he remembered – after Priya had broken up with him, he’d had the exact same look on his face. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What now?” Thomas asked. He’d had about enough of this conversation already. Little did he know how much worse it would get in just a moment.

“You’re in love with her.”

Thomas’ eyes widened. How had he been able to tell so easily? _Damn it_. It must have been the alcohol. Or maybe Thomas simply wasn’t as good at hiding his feelings as he thought he was. “I—” He hesitated. “—I told her I wasn’t.” Before he could process what was happening, he felt a hand smack the back of his head.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Hunt,” Ryan said in disbelief. He’d always known the person standing in the way of Thomas’ happiness was Thomas himself. But this? He’d never expected him to do this.

“You don’t understand,” Thomas said through gritted teeth. “It was the right decision.”

Ryan smacked him again. “When did you become _such_ a masochist?”

“I’m not—”

“Does she love you?” Ryan asked bluntly.

Thomas didn’t want to answer the question. He knew she did, and it made everything a million times worse. He’d thought it would be enough if he just didn’t let her say it, but it wasn’t. Knowing the way she felt about him… knowing she thought he didn’t reciprocate… it damn near killed him. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Then _don’t_ let her slip away.”

Right then and there, Ryan made a decision. He wouldn’t rest, no matter what it took, until he got Thomas and this mystery woman to at least talk things out. He was, after all, a hopeless romantic, and even though he was more used to being the lead – on screen, anyway – he knew playing Hunt’s fairy godmother would be immensely satisfying.


	3. An Unlikely Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though they miss each other terribly, they’re not going to admit it. Like, at all. So maybe… maybe they need a little nudge in the right direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh. Is it... could it be... a ship waiting to happen?

Rachel taking a leave of absence from school to work on her film was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it meant he didn’t have to see her in his class every day, a curse because the more time she spent on set, the more the speculations about her and Mr Winters’ relationship flourished. And as much as Thomas told himself he didn’t care, as much as he tried to ignore the front pages of the tabloids whenever he passed the three newsstands on his way to and from the university, as much as he avoided thinking about it by burying himself in work… it would never be enough. It would _never_ work. Because he _did_ care. Deeply. These last two weeks of not seeing her – not once – had been, for lack of a better word, hell. A hell he himself had created.

Even now, as his focus should have been solely on the essays of his Hollywood 101 students, she weaselled her way into his thoughts. He’d hoped staying in his office on campus late would help, as he would at least not have any reminders of her lying around – because despite how untidy it made the place look, he couldn’t bring himself to put away the necklace she’d so carelessly abandoned on his night stand before joining him in bed or take off the little note she’d pinned to his fridge when she’d left the next morning – but it was no use. She was _right there, _even when she wasn’t. He wondered when that would stop, if it would ever—

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard a faint knock on the door. He looked at his watch – it was late. Too late for any student to come by, especially on a Friday. Unless… His heart picked up speed. What if it was _her_?

“Come in,” he called out, trying to keep his voice steady. What would he say to her?

It didn’t matter. Because the girl that walked in was not Rachel. Though she may have very well been sent by her.

“Miss Sinclair, what can I do for you?” Thomas asked, clenching his jaw. How much did she know? Had he truly hurt Rachel enough for her to talk? To try and get him fired? He wouldn’t have thought she’d stoop so low. Maybe he’d given her too much credit.

The young blonde sat down across from him, folding her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking. She was scared – unlike Rachel, she wasn’t one to look for trouble – and Thomas knew then that he didn’t want to hear whatever she would say. But he would. Because if he was right, and this did have to do with Rachel, he needed to know. Anything he possibly could, he’d soak it all in.

“For me? Nothing. I lost all my respect for you when I found out that _you’re_ the reason my best friend is crying herself to sleep every night,” she said in a hostile tone he’d never heard from her before, and it felt as if she’d put her hand right through his chest and ripped his heart out. He’d known Rachel wouldn’t have taken it well. But he’d hoped that, unlike him, she would have found a way to forget by now. Even if that way came in the form of a certain Hollywood heartthrob.

But he couldn’t let her know that. He stood up, putting both his hands on his desk as he spoke. “You should leave, Miss Sinclair. I will not let you throw around baseless accusations and—”

“No,” she said, showing no inclination to stand. She sat, looking calmer by the second, and stared him down. “I’m not leaving until I’ve said my piece. You would do well to listen. Because I’m _very_ protective when it comes to my friends. And Rachel is my _best_ friend, Professor.”

Thomas swallowed hard but felt inclined to obey as he sat back down. “Very well. What is it you wanted to say?”

“You’re going to make things right with her. Because, regardless of what I think of you, she cares about you. Far more than you deserve, honestly,” she said. As if he needed anyone to point that out for him. “And you’re going to do everything in your power to make her happy. Or I will not _hesitate_ to call up my bodyguard friends and send them after you, understood?”

* * *

It wasn’t like she didn’t love what she was doing anymore. She still did. She still had her passion for it. But it was hard for her to enjoy anything when her stupid brain spent every fucking second of every fucking day thinking about _him_. The cast and crew all noticed, but they left her alone as long as she was on set and did her job. Except for Chris. Because Chris was just too damn nice to ignore his former friend’s suffering.

Luckily for her, he’d accepted her constant _I’m fine_’s and _Don’t worry_’s without much of an objection. Until tonight, that was. Because tonight, it seemed, he’d finally had enough. As they waited outside the studio for their respective drivers, he turned to her and said, “I’m sorry about the tabloids.”

“What?” Rachel asked, surprised that he’d even tried to start a conversation. Usually, they’d just stand next to each other in uncomfortable silence after she assured him she was fine. There wasn’t really much they could say to each other, after all.

“It’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?” he said, tilting his head to one side. “That people are talking about us. As in _us_, being _together_.”

She had to suppress a laugh. As if she gave half a fuck about what the general public thought. Though, he wasn’t entirely wrong. The tabloids _did_ bother her. Because, despite everything, she wondered what a certain professor of hers must have thought. _He probably thinks I’m a slut for moving on so quickly. _“Yeah, it kinda sucks.”

“Kinda sucks?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “Excuse my French, but you’re not acting like it _kinda sucks_. You’re acting like you’d rather _die_ than work with me.”

She sighed. She didn’t want him to feel like she had an issue with being in this movie together. Because she didn’t. Starring in a film alongside him was something many – including her not long ago – could only dream of. “That’s not it. I don’t… I don’t have a problem with you. I’m just… there’s just a lot of stuff going on in my life at the moment and—” Her phone rang and she couldn’t have been more relieved. It was the perfect excuse to get out of this conversation. “I should take this. It’s probably important.”

“Of course. Yeah, sure,” Chris said and stepped away to give her some privacy.

Rachel answered the call, unsure what to expect. It was a number she didn’t recognise, but that probably just meant that Ethan had given her contact information to someone who may be interested in working with her. Why anyone would make a call about work at this hour, though, she couldn’t fathom. “Hello?”

“Are you Rachel?” someone said on the other end of the line. His voice was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on where she knew it from.

“Who’s asking?”

“This is Ryan Summers,” the man said and Rachel nearly dropped her phone. _Holy crap!_ Of course the voice had seemed familiar – the guy was a legend! But why would _he_ be calling _her_? “I got your number from Hunt… well, it’s not like he gave it to me. But I went through his phone when he wasn’t looking and I… never mind. Do you have a moment?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Of course this was about Thomas. How could it not have been? “Not interested,” she said, about to hang up.

“Wait! Wait, don’t… please. You’re going to want to hear this, I promise.”

She bit her lip. Of course she wanted to hear it. She wanted to hear whatever she could about him. How was he doing? Had _he_ moved on? Of course he had. _He never felt the same way about you, remember? _“Fine. But make it quick.”

* * *

Addison couldn’t believe she’d just _threatened_ her professor. Who had she turned into? This was _so_ not her thing. Sure, she didn’t _always_ follow the rules, but, unlike her best friend, she also wasn’t hellbent on breaking them. Damn. She was tempted to apologise immediately after but, remembering that she wasn’t doing this for herself but for Rachel, she bit back the apology and continued to stare at Professor Hunt with a stern look in her eyes.

“Miss Sinclair, I do not appreciate being threatened by a student,” he said eventually, glaring at her.

_Christ, how does Rachel do it?_ How could anyone not be deterred by that cruel, icy glare? She would just have to try. Because she wasn’t going to give up. _Remember, you’re a good actress. Just pretend this doesn’t scare the ever-loving shit out of you. _“And I don’t appreciate seeing my friends in pain.”

His expression changed at that statement, and he faltered for a moment. “I—” His features hardened again. “I’m not discussing this with you. If Miss Fields wants to speak to me, tell her not to send someone in her stead next time.”

“She didn’t _send_ me. She doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“Then I’ll assume she doesn’t want to see me,” he said and while Addison couldn’t see any emotion on his face, she heard it in his voice. It had hurt him to even say that. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he shut her down. “This is your cue to leave, Miss Sinclair. You would do well to take it.”

She huffed but got up anyway. Fine. So that had been a bust. All she’d accomplished was getting on Hunt’s bad side. But that didn’t mean she’d let this go just yet. She’d just have to try harder.

* * *

Ryan was surprised at how young the woman that had picked up the phone sounded. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he had the right number. He’d simply chosen the number Thomas had called the most, but maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe he should have gone through his texts to be entirely certain that this Rachel woman was the right one.

His doubts disappeared soon enough when she told him she wasn’t interested. Her voice had sounded like it was laced with thousands of tiny needles. Yes, this was the woman who’d been deeply hurt by his idiot of a friend’s words. And if there had been any doubts left, they would have been entirely gone by the time she’d agreed to listen without much convincing on his part.

“Look, I don’t know who you are. Nor do I know what happened between you two. But I’ve never – or, at least not in a long time – seen him this way. I think—”

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” she said. “I’m tired, and I’ve got neither the time nor the patience to deal with his shenanigans.”

Ryan held back a chuckle. She sounded like a woman Hunt would go for alright. For a moment, he wondered where he’d found her – though, in the back of his mind, he already knew. He just couldn’t believe it yet. “My point is, you two should talk. I’m sure—”

“Does he want to talk to me?” she asked. Her voice sounded almost hopeful.

He swallowed hard. “Well… I…”

“That’s what I thought. Good night, Mr Summers.” And with that, she hung up.

_Damn it_, Ryan thought to himself as he looked out the window of the car. And then he realised where he was. Hunt’s place was less than two minutes away. Fine then. If that hadn’t worked, he’d just have to try to knock some sense into _him_ again. He quickly told his driver the new destination. Unfortunately, he was out of luck – Thomas wasn’t home. But he wasn’t simply going to give up like that. There was another place he could try. He _would_ find him tonight and he _would_ get him to see reason. Somehow.

* * *

As she brainstormed how to possibly go about this endeavour on her way back to her dorm, Addison didn’t pay any attention to her surroundings and promptly crashed into someone.

“Oh, I’m sorr—” they both said at the same time and laughed.

She looked up and it took her a few seconds to recognise the man in front of her. It was dark out, after all. But once she did, she nearly had a heart attack. “You’re Ryan Summers.”

He let out a good-natured laugh. “And you are…”

“Really, really sorry. I was kind of lost in thought and… well…”

“Oh, tell me about it,” he said. He hadn’t been particularly attentive, either, as he tried to figure out how on Earth he would get Hunt to listen. “I’m pretty sure this was my fault.”

“No, no,” she said, letting out a nervous chuckle. Even after years in Hollywood, after hanging out with A-Listers left and right, she was still in awe whenever she met someone famous she had not yet talked to.

“Let’s say we’re both at fault then, hm?” She was positively adorable.

He probably just said it to make her feel better, but it would have been a stupid thing to argue about. “I can live with that.”

Before they both went their separate ways, Ryan asked, “Hey, would you happen to know if Hunt’s still in his office?”

Addison grimaced. “I mean… yes, he is. But I have a feeling he’s in a really bad mood so you may not want to talk to him.”

“What, forgot to hand in an essay on time?” he joked.

“Something along those lines,” she said with a shrug. She couldn’t very well tell him the truth, could she now?

Ryan smiled. “Well, thanks for the warning. Have a good rest of your night.”

“You too,” she replied. “And good luck. I hope I won’t read about your murder in the papers tomorrow.”

He laughed again as they continued on their ways. After taking a few steps in opposite directions, they both turned around at the same time.

“Hey, do you think you could help me with something?”


	4. Elevator: Reloaded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Addison and Ryan have a plan... but will it work?

Their plan was simple and neither of them truly believed it would work. It was entirely predictable but, then again, maybe that was the genius of it. Maybe that was _exactly_ what would make it work.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Addison giggled. It was exciting, if a little ridiculous, to scheme with Ryan. “Do you think they’ll show?”

“Hunt will. He may be a dickwad, but he does help out his friends if he thinks they need it,” Ryan replied as he plopped down on his couch. “And I was, if I may say so myself, _quite_ convincing.”

She ignored his self-praise – as a renowned actor, he had better been convincing! – and raised an eyebrow. “Hunt has friends?”

He laughed. “It _is_ hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“I suppose I can believe it, though,” she said and leaned back into the immensely comfortable cushion. She wondered how expensive this couch must have been, but decided she probably didn’t even want to know. “I mean, until recently I didn’t think he had a heart, either.”

“Would it be bad if I said I almost started to think that, too? He’s become even more bitter over the years,” Ryan said and shook his head. “I still can’t believe that she’s his student.”

As strange as it was, he didn’t judge him for it. Ryan certainly wasn’t in a position to judge. He simply would have never thought that _Thomas Hunt_ – a man who prided himself on his propriety – would let himself get involved with a student of all people. Then again, love was a tricky little thing and one never knew where it would turn up.

“Trust me, I can’t, either,” Addison laughed just as the phone rang.

He picked it up – it was his doorman, telling him a young woman had arrived. “Send her up.”

“Rachel?” Addison asked.

Ryan nodded. He would have thought Thomas would be the first to come. After all, he was all about punctuality. “What did you tell her, anyway?”

“That I’ve got someone she’s going to want to meet,” she said sheepishly. “I hate lying to her.”

“Devious,” Ryan remarked. “You’re far too good at this.”

She blushed, unsure how to react. Luckily, she didn’t have to, as the phone rang again. Hunt had arrived.

“Things are going better than we thought,” Ryan said, grinning widely, upon hanging up. “They’re going to come up together. I’ll go ahead and call in a favour with the maintenance guys.”

* * *

It had taken some convincing on the doorman’s part but, eventually, Rachel agreed to take the elevator instead of the stairs. Whoever Addison had wanted to meet did live in the penthouse, after all. She regretted it almost immediately, though, because just before the doors closed, someone else had walked onto the elevator as well. She hadn’t seen who, as she’d squeezed her eyes shut the second she’d pressed the button, trying to block out where she was.

But _he_ saw _her_. He would have thought he would have recognised her sooner, but she’d been standing with her back to him and, by the time he realised, the doors had closed behind them, trapping them in the small space together. Wonderful.

“What are you doing here?” Thomas hissed, certain that this had to have been some kind of plan concocted by her.

The sound of his voice made her eyes snap open. _Shit._ “I could ask _you_ the same thing.”

“I have a _reason_ to be here. You, on the other hand… I highly _doubt_ that you know anyone in this building,” he said, looking at which button had been pressed. His eyes narrowed. “Let alone Ryan Summers.”

Ryan Summers? Oh. _Oh._ It took her all of two seconds to realise what was happening. “For fuck’s sake,” she groaned. “We’ve been parent-trapped.”

“We’ve been _what now_?” Thomas asked, aggravated. He did _not_ want to engage in any conversation with her, but he couldn’t help it.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, right, I forgot. The _great_ Thomas Hunt only watches films directed by the likes of Orson Welles. You’re so pretentious.”

“I’m _aware_ of the film,” he said and shot her a glare. “Though, I assume you’ve only seen the remake. What I fail to understand is – oh.”

“Took you long enough,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “Maybe you aren’t as smart as you think, huh?”

“Or I simply chose to see the best in Ryan,” he countered.

“Right. Because you’re such an optimist.”

Thomas chose to ignore her comment. “Either way, we’re going to be out of here in just a few seconds. And I’ll be telling him _exactly_ what I think of this little stunt.”

Just as he said it, the elevator stopped. Rachel looked up at the level indicator to see what she already knew. They were not yet on the penthouse level. _Oh, for crying out loud._ She found herself surprised that she wasn’t panicking, but her fear was overridden by the anger she felt. Towards Addison – who she would have to have a serious talk about boundaries with after this was over – but also towards Thomas. Oh, the anger she felt towards him. It couldn’t even be put into words.

“Great. You just _had_ to say it, didn’t you?”

“Are you saying this is somehow my fault?” he said exasperatedly. “If anything, it’s _yours_ for telling your friend about us.”

He still couldn’t believe she’d done that. How could she have been so stupid? So careless!

“I most certainly did not ask her to do _this_!” she exclaimed and the reality of the situation sank in. She was trapped in an elevator. Again. With Hunt. Again. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_!”

“How eloquent,” Thomas remarked sarcastically.

“Well, excuse me for being annoyed,” she snapped at him. “This isn’t exactly how I thought I’d be spending my Saturday.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly. I’m not particularly thrilled about being forced in a confined space with _you_, either.”

“I bet,” she said under her breath, trying not to sound as hurt as she felt. “But I’m _sure_ you enjoy torturing me with your presence.”

“Like _you_ should talk. You’ve been working hard to get on the covers of all those tabloids just to torment me, haven’t you?” he said, then – realising he’d given himself away – added, “For your information, it’s _not_ working.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What is _that_ supposed to mean? I’m doing _my job_. I don’t have any control over what stories these magazines run.”

“And your job includes sleeping with your co-star?” he asked, immediately realising that that had been a low blow. The thing was, he didn’t care. She was testing him – tempting him – and he was angry. So very, _very_ angry.

And then she did something that surprised the both of them. Something inside her had snapped – because she would not take these idiotic accusations when she knew damn well he didn’t even believe them himself – and she slapped him. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

His reaction was equally as unexpected. Because instead of scolding her, or yelling at her, or doing anything he should have done, he let out an inhuman growl before he pushed her against the metal wall and let his lips come down on hers hard. And, after stiffening for a second, she returned his kiss with just as much of this angry passion that had, quite clearly, built up in both of them.


	5. If It's Not Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for some kinda angry post-break-up sex… and maybe a little bit of talking. Or a lot of talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's got mature/explicit content so, uh, that. Also, I’ve decided to add one more part to this series after this one because… I’ve got some ideas for Ryan and Addison soooo that should be out either tomorrow or the day after that.

He let out an inhuman growl before he let his lips crash down on hers in a hungry kiss and slammed her body into the nearest wall. The woman had led him – him! _The_ Thomas Hunt! – on an emotional rollercoaster from day one. From frustration to anger to hatred to desire to _love _and right back to frustration. And as all of them mixed together, as he was unable to distinguish between them, there was only one thing he could do. He wanted to _break_ her.

And she him. She felt much the same way about the bastard who had turned her entire life upside down; the bastard whose mere words made her feel like she was on top of the world one moment, and reduced her to a whimpering pile of nothing the next. Never in her life had she felt such strong emotions for _anyone_ and she couldn’t believe that this bastard of a man had turned out to be the one she’d feel them for.

“You want to say that again?” Thomas growled against her lips as his hands ran down the sides of her outrageously sexy body until they found her hips.

“Gladly,” she said between kisses and started pushing his jacket off his shoulders. “You’re a fucking asshole. And I hate you.”

He let his jacket fall to the floor, not giving a care in the world about how filthy this elevator must have been, and hoisted Rachel up. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer.

“Good,” he said, though it came out as more of a moan at feeling her warm body pressed against him, and moved his mouth down to her neck, sucking and nipping. He didn’t much care that he’d be leaving a mark. In fact, he _wanted_ to leave a mark. “At least it’s mutual.”

Lips parted slightly from the feeling of his mouth against her skin in all the right places, she got to work on the buttons of his shirt, which turned out to be harder than expected as she wasn’t able to see what she was doing, so she started ripping at them. The sound of multiple buttons hitting the metal walls, then the floor echoed through the small space.

In an instant, Thomas’ hands had grabbed hers and pinned them against the wall, and he removed his lips from her neck to glare at her. “That was an expensive shirt.”

“I don’t _care_,” she hissed and rocked against him, making his glare disappear.

“_Fuck_,” he groaned, hips jerking involuntarily.

She grinned as she leant in, her lips brushing his ever so slightly. “_How eloquent_.”

Dear lord, she was insufferable. Everything about her was. The way she exasperated him with her words, the way she moved against him, the way she made him feel things he’d never thought he would again, and – most of all – the way she made him forget himself whenever he was with her. Goddamnit, the woman was the last thing he needed in his life – and yet, the only thing he wanted. He captured her lips again in a desperate kiss as he let go of her hands and moved his own to her thighs, letting them slide under her dress.

She was glad his lips were still on hers or else she would have been the one cursing now, as his hands burnt hot on her skin, moving higher and higher, until they reached the thin fabric of her panties that clung to her dripping wet centre. She gasped when she felt his thumb press against her lightly, and he smirked triumphantly before tugging at the fabric.

Rachel unhooked her legs from around him and, wobbly as they were, put them down on the floor to step out of her underwear. As she did, she heard him fumble with his belt before his pants, along with his boxer briefs, fell to the floor with a quiet thud.

Impatiently, his hands grabbed her hips again, lifting her up and pushing her back against the wall as he slammed into her, finally, _finally_, feeling her again.

_God, I’ve missed you_.

He hadn’t noticed he’d spoken aloud, not yet, but she heard the words loud and clear, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest. _Me too_, she wanted to say. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

And he did. He didn’t even try to be gentle this time around, his thrusts hard and fast and unrelenting. Her hands flew up to grip his shoulders tightly, holding onto him for dear life as she arched into him, her hips trying to meet his rhythm.

It had been just over two weeks but it felt like an eternity without him and all she wanted – all she needed – was to _feel_ him again, within and without. Somewhere in the back her mind, she knew this wouldn’t solve anything. It was a terrible, _terrible_ idea, but it didn’t matter. Not right now. All she could care about was him, and how good it felt to have him inside her again, and –

“_Thomas_!” she yelped as he hit that one spot within her, her nails digging into his shoulders. She was drawing blood, felt the wet warmth under her fingertips, but she didn’t care.

Neither did he. Because his name from her lips was all that mattered and he – selfish bastard that he was – wanted to hear it over and over and over. “Say it again,” he said, thrusting into her harder. “_Say it again._”

She didn’t want to give him what he wanted, but it was him, only him, that could make her feel this way. Only him that could have her like this, raw and wild and unable to control herself. _Only him._ And so she screamed his name again and again and again until hers fell from his lips like a prayer as he came, taking her right with him.

It was an overwhelming high, and coming down from it shattered her. Because the ecstasy made way for all the feelings – all the anger and the grief – that were still there and couldn’t simply be fucked away, and she felt tears streaming down her face almost immediately.

Thomas didn’t notice at first, his head buried against her shoulder as he tried to recover from his intense orgasm until he finally felt steady enough to slide out of her and set her back on the ground. As he did, he felt her teardrops fall onto his skin and, looking up at her distraught face, began to panic. _Shit._

“Rachel,” he whispered, for fear his voice would fail him if he tried to speak normally, and lifted a trembling hand to her cheek.

She ducked under his arm, moving past him to pick up her panties and put them on again, her back turned to him. Never in her life had she felt so… ashamed. She was such an idiot! “Don’t. Just don’t.”

“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” Thomas begged, his chest tightening at the mere thought. “Did I… did I hurt you?”

“No,” she said. Of course, that was a lie. And she was so, _so_ tired of lying. To herself, to him… “At least not physically, if that’s what you were asking.”

He let out a small sigh of relief, though he still felt terrible. He’d _known_ sending her away had hurt her, but hearing it from her was an entirely different thing. “I… I never… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t get to be sorry,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment before turning to him. “I won’t let you apologise. I won’t forgive you. Because I am _sick_ of your excuses.”

“I’m _trying_ to do what’s right for you!”

She let out a humourless laugh. “And what would that be? Breaking up with me? Fucking me in an elevator? Please, tell me.”

“I…” He faltered for a moment. “I’m sorry. This was a… temporary moment of—”

“I swear to God, if you say weakness, I am going to kill you,” she snapped at him, then took a deep breath. “No matter. I’m done. I get it now. You’re _exactly_ the egotistical asshole everyone says you are.”

“Egotistical? Letting you go was the _least_ egotistical thing I’ve ever done in my entire life!”

She huffed. “You know, the worst part is that I _know_ you actually believe that.”

“Because it’s—”

“No, Thomas,” she interrupted. “It’s _not_ the truth. I told you, over and over, that I’m fine with this. That I don’t care if you can’t take me on the perfect date because just spending time with you is enough for me. This isn’t about me at all.”

“But—”

“Let. Me. Speak,” she said, staring him down. “This is entirely about you. Because _you_ can’t stand that you’re not perfect. You said it yourself – I’m your _dirty little secret_. And you – or this idealized image you have of yourself – can’t have one of those. So you push me away, tell yourself that you’re being noble, but you’re just a prick. And that’s fine. It is. Because you’re right about one thing. I _do_ deserve better.”

He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that he had never even thought about himself, but his words got stuck in his throat. _What if she’s right? _Deep down, he knew she must have been. And here he’d thought he couldn’t feel any worse. “I’m sorry.”

“Look, it’s… I told you, it’s fine. Once we get out of here, you won’t have to see me again.” She sighed, chewing at her bottom lip. “There’s plenty of good schools in the area. I’m sure I’ll find—”

“No,” he said, realising the meaning of her words. Every fibre of his being was screaming, urging him to do something, _anything_, to make her change her mind. Make her stay. He had been such a fool, standing in the way of his own happiness. Maybe it was too late now. Maybe she’d made up her mind. But if there was any chance, _any at all_, to make it right, he had to take it. “Please don’t go.”

“And why wouldn’t I? Why would I stay? I can get my education elsewhere. Far away from _you_. Because, clearly, you don’t want me around. Clearly, you—”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, dying to make themselves heard. “Because I love you, Rachel.”

She froze. No. No, he hadn’t just said that. “Come again?”

“I love you. God help me, but I do.” He needed her to know. He was being selfish again, he was quite aware, but he couldn’t have her walking away from him thinking he didn’t feel the same way… _if_ she still felt the same way. She was awfully quiet, staring at him in disbelief.

Her eyes scanned his, scrutinising them, looking for any sign that this was just another trick, but she couldn’t find one. Staring back at her was a man who was vulnerable, insecure and, most importantly, telling the truth. But she’d been fooled before. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Rachel, I—”

“No,” she said, her voice shaking as the tears that had subsided at some point during their conversation started flowing again. “No, don’t… don’t you say that. Don’t you say that. You can’t just say that!”

She nearly screamed her last words, making Thomas flinch. But he didn’t step back. She’d been fighting for him all this time, he realised. Now it was his turn. “I’m not _just saying that_,” he said and took a step towards her. “I _mean_ it. But if you don’t feel the same way anymore—”  
“Damn it, Thomas, you _know _I do,” she exclaimed. “You know that I love you and that’s why I can’t… I can’t let you do this to me. I _won’t _let you do this to me.”

He reached out to put his palm against her cheek and, despite everything inside her telling her to swat his hand away, she leant into his touch.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” he said, choking up. “I shouldn’t have let you walk away like that.” He leant in, pressing their foreheads together. “I will spend eternity trying to make it up to you. If you’ll let me.”

Her heartbeat quickened. Who was she kidding? She loved that man like no other and there was no way in hell she’d ever get over him. And he had just admitted to her that he felt the same way. “I don’t presume that means you’ll let me choose what to watch for movie nights from now on, does it?”

He let out a hearty laugh, filled with relief. Yes. _Yes._

“I will _enthusiastically_ watch any film, no matter how substandard, if it will allow me to hold you in my arms again.”

He smiled at her, a warmth she had not seen before in his eyes, before letting their lips meet in a tender kiss. A sigh escaped him. “I love you, Rachel.”

The candour of his kiss erasing all doubts from her mind, she finally allowed herself to fully believe it. And as the realisation sank in, a wide grin spread across her face. He _loved_ her. _Thomas Hunt_ loved her. _Her_.

“Thomas,” she breathed against his lips, so affectionately that he was sure his heart was going to burst any second. “I love you.”


	6. Epilogue: Addi x Ryan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Addison and Ryan are anxious to find out if their plan worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank hopelessromantic1352 and flyawayboo on tumblr for encouraging my Addison x Ryan shipping lol because I don’t think I would have written this otherwise...

“I think I’m going to pass out,” Addison said as they anxiously waited for the elevator doors to open. She wasn’t entirely sure who she was more afraid of. Common sense told her it _should_ have been Professor Hunt, but Rachel wasn’t any less scary. Especially if things hadn’t gone as planned… if there was no silver lining to being locked in an elevator – something Addison _knew_ Rachel was terrified of – she would _end_ her.

Ryan gently put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down, though he was just as nervous himself, and said, “They’ll get over their anger if this worked.”

“But that’s a big if,” she said. “Maybe they—”

She was interrupted by the _ding!_ sound of the elevator and her heart leapt into her throat. Oh boy. This was it. The moment of truth.

The doors opened to reveal Hunt and Rachel, both frowning, standing a couple feet apart from each other. _Uh-oh._

No one spoke as the pair stepped into the foyer but a small smile made its way to Ryan’s lips. It was barely noticeable, of course, as the two did their best to cover it up, but they were moving in sync and, upon closer inspection, Ryan found their appearances were just a tad more dishevelled than they should have been.

It took Addison a little moment longer to see it. What eventually gave it away to her was the small sparkle in Rachel’s eyes that she hadn’t seen since Hunt had broken up with her. She grinned.

“I told you we can’t fool them,” Rachel whispered and reached for Hunt’s hand.

He moved a little closer, allowing her to take it. “Maybe you’re not as good of an actress as you think you are.”

“Oh. My. God,” Addison squealed and turned to Ryan. “We did it!”

“Looks like it,” Ryan said and smiled at her. “We should get together to scheme more often.”

Before he could process what was happening, she’d put a hand on either side of his face and leant up to kiss him in a move no one – including herself – would have anticipated.

Then she realised what she’d done and pulled back, blushing. “Shit. I’m sorry, I don’t know what—”

She couldn’t finish her sentence, cut off by Ryan’s lips on hers again.

Thomas turned to Rachel, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What… is happening here?”

“I think this is our cue to leave,” she chuckled, looking over at the kissing pair. “Don’t worry, I’ll still give Addi a piece of my mind. Just not right now.”

He huffed. “Very well. But we’re taking the emergency stairs this time.”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” she said, entwining her fingers with his. Glancing at the other two again, their kisses growing more and more heated, she added, “We should probably go _now_.”


End file.
